


The Marriage

by Endangered_Slug



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Marriage of Convenience, Romance, Smut, like we don't know how that ends, voices carry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2328923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endangered_Slug/pseuds/Endangered_Slug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow up to my Rumbelle Showdown entries The Codicil and The Proposal. </p><p>Mr. Gold follows through with his deal with Belle and she takes the moment to extract one more promise from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this written for a month, but I've been putting it off a bit for one reason or another — mostly due to laziness. You'd be surprised how easily it is to procrastinate when you don't have a deadline. Once again, thanks so much to everyone who was kind enough to vote for me in the Showdown. No, I won't ever get over it. *loves on you all*

 

 

It was months before Adam's divorce was finalized. At first, his lawyer had trouble tracking his wife down and once they found her it turned out she was out of the country. Then it took some convincing on Gold's part for her to sign the papers, but eventually she saw reason, and, Belle suspected, that she extorted as much as she could from him, and made their divorce official. There was nothing keeping Belle and Adam from marrying.

 

They met at the court house with very little fan fare. Belle wore her nicest dress and Adam presented her with a red rose just beginning to open. The red set off her yellow dress perfectly and she smiled gratefully as she took it from him. She hadn't planned on a bouquet so his gesture was kind and showed how much thought he'd put into it. Their marriage license was obtained without fuss and within five minutes they were standing in Dr. Hopper's office saying their vows.

 

When Dr. Hopper asked for the rings she looked up at Adam with wide-eyed panic. They hadn't talked about rings or names or anything during the weeks waiting for his divorce to finalize. He kept her informed of any developments, but, other than that, their engagement was never spoken of. Surely they could still be married without jewelry? But Adam merely put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a ring set with a sparkling sapphire and placed it on her finger as if they'd spent days picking out the perfect one. It fit.

 

She was still staring at it when they were pronounced husband and wife and the words startled her. _What had they done_ , she thought looking up at Adam with wonder.

 

Adam hesitated before leaning down to press a warm kiss to her cheek. She'd stood up a bit on her toes so as to kiss him back but he withdrew quickly before she could make contact.

 

The psychiatrist left them alone for privacy saying he needed to file the marriage license with the county making everything legal.

 

Gold stared at Belle for a moment before giving her a tiny smile. “I didn't get a chance to say it before but you look lovely, Belle.”

 

“Thank you, Adam. You look... nice, too.” She blushed, looking down at her ring. It was beautiful and exactly what she would have picked out if he'd asked. “The ring is beautiful. It was nice of you to think of it.” She slipped it off her finger and handed it back to him

 

He frowned slightly, looking at the ring in her tiny hand. “Keep it,” he said, with a rueful glance at her face.

 

Belle would have insisted, but he'd already turned around and picked up his briefcase from Dr. Hopper's couch. He smoothly flicked open the locks and lifted the lid, pulling out a file with her name written in neat, black ink on the tab.

 

Feeling ridiculous standing there with her arm outstretched, she put the ring in her pocket instead. She'd return it somehow. Or maybe pay him for it once she'd received her inheritance. It was lovely and she'd like to keep it to remind her of her wedding day. She _wanted_ something to remember it by, she realized. A ring would be just as good as anything except, maybe, Adam. “So now what?”

 

He turned to her with a smirk, his hair not quite hiding the glint in his eye. “Now, we get your inheritance from the clutches of your grandmum. There are a few forms we both need to sign and then I'll fax them and the marriage certificate to the necessary people and you'll be all set. It should take a week, maybe a bit longer if they're being difficult.”

 

She nodded in understanding, heaving a small sigh. She had just a week before her impending divorce and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the thought that her marriage would be so short. There were times when she wished in her heart that they could make this work, but Adam had never once indicated that he was open to a relationship with her so she kept her mouth firmly shut whenever the urge to blurt out something stupid, something so outrageous, something completely wonderful that the insides of her cheeks had bite marks embedded in them.

 

Was is wrong to love your husband? Belle thought it was a basic requirement, right up there with respect and trust, all of which applied to her in regards to _him_. She thought he should know – that she should tell him, but she also didn't want to lose him. He'd done so much for her already that she felt it would be downright rude to ask one more thing of him. He had been very clear that this was a temporary situation — there would be no romantic entanglements whatsoever. Their divorce papers were already drawn up and waiting for Belle's inheritance to come through before being signed and filed at the courthouse.

 

It _would_ be wrong to demand more from him. He'd gone above and beyond what any friend should do for another and she was very grateful.

 

She concentrated on the task at hand as Adam walked her through the legal documents, answering all of her questions in detail until she was satisfied that she understood everything. Everything was scanned and faxed over and within ten minutes everything was done.

 

“Do you want to come over for lunch?” She smiled weakly at him.

 

He kept his face hidden behind the fall of hair as he packed everything away neatly. “Lunch would be lovely, thank you, Belle.”

 

They met Archie on the way out. He was nervous, but jovial with his congratulations. “I wish you both luck. Have you decided where you'll honeymoon?”

 

They looked at each other, at a loss.

 

“Um...” Belle began.

 

“No matter, no matter. I won't keep you,” he said, holding up his hands as if to ward off the details. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

 

“Thanks,” Belle said, wondering if he'd just wished them happy sex or if he was being polite.

 

Probably just being polite.

 

Her apartment was, technically speaking, directly next door to Dr. Hopper's office but, as it was connected through the library, they had to exit the building and go around to the east end to get to it.

 

“So, where will you go first now that you're a rich woman?” Adam asked, holding the door to the street open for her.

 

Belle had given a lot of thought to it, most of her daydreams involving honeymoon destinations with her new husband, but since she only had to please herself, she switched gears.

 

“How do you like boats,” she asked, glancing up at him out of the corner of her eyes as she led him to her door.

 

“Not very well, I'm afraid. Why?”

 

“I might go to Greece, buy a boat... sail around the world. Something like that.”

 

He looked at her with interest. “Do you know how to sail?”

 

“Not yet. Leroy could give me lessons though.”

 

“You'd do this all by yourself?” he asked with a small smile hovering over his lips.

 

“Well, my husband doesn't seem to care for boats,” she said, fitting the key into her lock, very carefully keeping her hand from trembling. She got it unlocked without difficulty and pushed it open, gesturing for him to go first.

 

“Should I carry you over the threshold, you think? It's tradition.”

 

Belle thought it was just as likely that she would carry him over the threshold but she just smiled to herself, shaking her head, wondering at his playful mood.

 

The phone was ringing when they walked in.

 

“That'll be my dad,” she said, shrugging out of her coat and tossing it over a chair already piled high with sweaters and a few scarves. “Mr. Nguyen would have called him by now.”

 

“Already?”

 

“Oh, definitely. 'Your wayward daughter got married. Doom! Doom! Doom!' He's probably already spread the news to half of my extended family.” She toed off her shoes and kicked them into the corner, relieved when the phone stopped ringing. “I should keep you and take you down to meet them. Go ahead and sit down,” she said, gesturing to the sofa.

 

“I don't think they'd like that,” he said, setting his briefcase by the door and following her into the living room.

 

“I don't care,” she said, wagging her head with each word. She smiled tightly at him and retreated to the kitchen, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

 

“Can I help with lunch?”

 

“Not unless you want the honeymoon to happen,” she muttered to herself.

 

“Pardon me?”

 

“The kitchen is too small for two people,” she called out. “Not enough room.”

 

“Oh. I see.”

 

“Just sit there and I'll be right out.”

 

What was she doing? She leaned her head against the refrigerator door and squeezed her eyes shut. She was married to a man who didn't love her and now she decided to flirt with him? Maybe she should have tried that before they got hitched? She took a deep breath and gathered her courage.

 

“Hey, do you like dogs?” she called out, taking condiments out of the refrigerator and placing them on the counter.

 

“Not for lunch!”

 

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Ha ha! We're having sandwiches, Mr. Gold.”

 

“Sandwiches are fine, Belle. What about dogs?”

 

She blinked several times before going back to spreading mayo on the bread with a trembling hand. “I was thinking of getting one. For my sailboat. I'd like company.”

 

“A dog would be a good thing to have. What kind would you get?”

 

She shrugged. “I don't know. Probably the biggest, shaggiest mutt I can find. I'll name him Mr. Gold.” She finished the sandwiches and cut them diagonally, set them on a plate and put the plate on a tray. There were cut up vegetables in the fridge and those were placed next to the sandwiches and she had a bottle of champagne already chilled. Champagne required flutes, but all she had were jelly jars with the Flintstones printed on the side. She thought they were cute when she bought them. Now they just seemed childish.

 

She looked at the lunch she'd assembled wishing she'd planned better. Sandwiches and champagne in jars with cartoon characters on it wasn't very classy, but neither was marrying for an inheritance and she refused to feel bad about it. At the last minute, she placed her rose into a small vase and set that, too, on the tray. It looked lonely.

 

The phone started up again. Damn.

 

“Are you going to pick that up?”

 

“No,” she said, coming out with the heavy tray in her hands. “People should know better than to call newlyweds. What do they think we'll be doing anyway?”

 

“Er...”

 

“I mean, _normally_ , not, you know, _us_. They don't know our agreement. We're supposed to be shagging each other breathless. Calling me now is just rude.”

 

“How long do you think our hypothetical shagging should last?” he asked when the shrill ringing stopped. His color was high and he looked uncomfortable.

 

Belle was beginning to wonder if it was right for her to keep him here when they had a very specific catch and release agreement. Adam was being very kind, but his kindness was starting to irritate her. She didn't want polite friendliness. She wanted him.

 

“Well, you said a week, right?” she asked, taking a cucumber slice and popping it in her mouth. It tasted like cold rubber in her mouth. She didn't feel like eating. Not when he was so close to her and she could feel the way he tensed up every time she moved.

 

“About that long. I can't say for sure.” He fumbled with his sandwich and set it down before he could drop it. He cleared his throat a bit before continuing, “I like dogs. They're... not judgmental.”

 

“Unconditional love does sound nice,” she said as her phone started ringing again. “I think I'll get a water dog. Something that would enjoy being surrounded by the ocean.”

 

“How would you exercise it?” he asked, playing with the edge of his cuffs a bit.

 

He seemed very determined to not look at her and Belle was getting very frustrated. She wanted to see his face. Wanted to know that he was just as affected by the whole thing as she was. There were times when she thought he might like her back — as something more than a friend, more than a casual date when they had nothing better to do. Then he'd pull back, erecting a wall she'd spent so much time trying to demolish. She fiddled with her napkin and sighed.

 

“I'm not sure, but it can be done. I've read articles about people sailing with their pets.”

 

He nodded. “You should answer your phone, Belle. Your father has got to be worried.”

 

“I really don't want to talk to my dad right now,” she said leaning over the arm of the couch to unplug the phone with a jerk on the cord. “There. I'll deal with him tomorrow.”

 

“I thought you were going to Brazil?” he asked after a moment of awkward silence.

 

“Oh! I am, but not at this time of year. I was planning on being very touristy and going during Carnival. I like the idea of starting out in Greece now.”

 

“The waters are blue there. And warm.” He was twisting his ring around his finger. Around and around. Belle wished he would tell her what he was thinking.

 

“Ye-es.”

 

He finally looked up at her, his eyes wistful. “I've heard it's beautiful.”

 

“You should come with me,” she said as if the idea had just occurred to her.

 

His lips quirked up at the corner, smiling half-heartedly. “I'm afraid I'd be useless on a sailboat,” he said indicating his cane.

 

She shook her head. “I don't have to have a boat. You should come with me.” She poked at his arm. She stroked him, sliding down until she reached his elbow. His muscles were tense under her hand.

 

"And climb the Parthenon? I'd slow you down."

 

She frowned, pulling her hand back. "You're just making excuses now. We can take a road trip to Wyoming. I've heard it's flat,” she said with some bitterness. She was beginning to wish she'd never agreed to this. It was foolish to think she could just be his friend.

 

"Belle," he said softly, shaking his head.

 

"Fine. I'll just have to come visit you then."

 

"You'd come back?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes.

 

"There's a harbor for my boat,” she pointed out. “And my favorite person lives here. Even if he's stubborn and refuses to see the world with me."

 

"I don't want to get in the way of your dreams," he said.

 

She slumped down, unable to think of a way to convince him that her dreams included him. Her eyes fell on the bottle of champagne, probably too warm now to be really enjoyable. Still effective as alcohol though. She grabbed the bottle by the neck.

 

“Do you know how to do this without taking out a light bulb?”

 

He smirked at her, taking the bottle and placing it between his knees. “I think I can handle it,” he said.

 

She watched as he expertly untwisted the wire holding the cork in the bottle. She half expected it to go flying out with a loud pop and a gush of wine like in the movies, but he got it off without dramatics and handed her the wire. His thumbs gently worked the cork, wiggling it until it popped out. Belle had never felt jealous of a cork before. Today was just a bouquet of firsts.

 

There was no messy spray to deal with and she felt it was a missed opportunity. If she'd uncorked the bottle, she would probably have sprayed Adam with the overflow — if she didn't knock him out with the cork first. She accepted her jelly jar with a nod of thanks handing him the wire that she'd twisted and wrapped around itself, smoothing the ends down so he wouldn't cut himself.

 

“What is this,” he said with some amusement.

 

“Your ring. I didn't get you one so I made you one. I'm sorry I didn't have time to get it engraved.”

 

He looked at it thoughtfully, a small smile playing around the corners of his lips. “It's lovely.” He slipped it on his ring finger and they admired it together.

 

“I hope it doesn't turn your skin green.”

 

“Some outward corrosion to go with the inside?” he scoffed. “I'll be fine.”

 

“You're not corroded.” _You're wonderful_ , she thought, taking the glass he poured for her. "What are your plans? Once you're a free man?”

 

“I'll probably stay around here,” he said, looking at her fully for the first time. "I have some side projects that require my attention."

 

"Like what?"

 

"Well, I have an estate sale to attend.” He fiddled with his new ring. “And I need to make sure Regina doesn't shut down the library again. I plan on making inquiries for a new librarian as soon as you tender your resignation."

 

Her stomach sank. But the library was _hers_. How could— oh she was a fool for thinking she could get away.

 

"Going to replace me then?" she asked trying to sound as if she had no worries at all.

 

He gave a slight chuckle at that. "No one could ever replace you, Belle."

 

"I'm curious, what are your requirements for the job? I mean, in case I run into anyone who fits the bill."

 

"Well, for starters, the person would need to have an advanced degree in library science."

 

She smirked at him. "Naturally. What else?”

 

He looked up at the ceiling as if giving it some thought. "Good organizational skills, pays attention to detail, friendly, knows everything there is to know about books, loves story time and kids, has a laugh that sounds like fairy music. Um...” He glanced at her lips briefly before meeting her eyes. “She should have beautiful blue eyes and, and brown hair that likes to stick up at the ends. And she'll also eat hamburgers with crotchety old pawnbrokers."

 

Her breath caught in her throat. "That's a very specific skill set," she said, breathlessly.

 

He looked down again, ruefully. "To be honest I don't think we'll find anyone to fill it."

 

Belle scooted a bit closer to him. "Adam, did you, um, want me to stay?"

 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, a pained expression flitting across his face. "No.”

 

"But you won't come with me?"

 

No one told her that falling in love would hurt so much. She didn't know that her crush on Mr. Gold would turn into such a burning love but, it turns out, when you spend nearly six months together, those little seeds of affection bloom and grow into the most beautiful, twisted and thorny, invasive vine that wrapped itself around her heart and _squeezed_.

 

A week. Maybe.

 

If she was going to break her own heart shouldn't she make it worth her while?

 

She looked at him in his dark suit, perfectly creased and tailored, his too-long hair spilling over the collar that had her fingers itching to touch it. His jaw that begged to be kissed right along the edge up to those adorable pixie ears that she longed to nibble. His large, brown eyes...

 

Large, brown eyes that we're staring at her as if she held his heart in her fingertips. He was so close that she could see a vein rapidly throbbing on the side of his neck. It was mesmerizing. Maybe he wouldn't mind if she kissed him...

 

Belle quickly emptied her cup, setting it on the coffee table next to her stack of travel books. If she placed her hand just so on the couch, _there_ , like that, their hands just barely brushed against each other. She let her little finger trace his softly for a moment while she gathered her courage. His breath hitched at her touch, his mouth slack and parted as he tried to grasp the last threads of control.

 

He was so beautiful.

 

“Is it me?” she asked once she got her pounding heart under control.

 

“Is what you?”

 

“Do you not think of me that way? Or... or does having someone in your life not interest you at all? Which, I guess that's the case, I mean you spent all those year alone—”

 

She was stopped by his mouth on hers. She stiffened in shock before closing her eyes and leaning into him, relishing the softness of his lips and the lingering taste of champagne on his tongue.

 

“There is no way in the universe I don't want you, Belle,” he murmured against her lips.

 

She closed her eyes, hugging him closer, feeling the way he melted against her. “Why haven't you said anything, Adam?”

 

“Because you're... Oh Belle, I don't want to hold you back, but I don't know if I can watch you leave.” He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose in quick succession.

 

She pulled at his hair slightly to get his attention. “Then come with me.”

 

“I can't.”

 

She groaned in frustration, actually growled at him as she dove in for his mouth. If he couldn't talk then he couldn't reject her. He wanted her, she knew that now as he nibbled his way down her neck while she climbed onto his lap. The jelly jar he was holding fell to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her steady against him. She could feel his erection, hard and insistent and she moved against it earning a growl of her own from him.

 

The low hum of voices startled them.

 

"Who's next door," he asked quickly, tearing away from her.

 

"Dr. Hopper, actually. That's where his practice is."

 

"You can hear them?" he asked, pulling away a bit. His lips were kiss-swollen and smeared pink from her lipstick.

 

"I can hear people talking sometimes, but I can't actually hear what they're saying. Don't worry, I haven't overheard anyone's secrets. Even if I did I wouldn't tell."

 

"But if you can hear them then they —"

 

"Can hear us," she said, licking up his neck. "Good."

 

He arched against her, unable to pull away. "Good?"

 

"I _want_ people to know what we're doing. I _want_ them to know we're married and we're spending the afternoon fucking. I'd do it in the middle of Granny's if I could. I don't care who sees."

 

That seemed to knock him out of whatever trance he was in. "Belle, you have to stop. You've had too much champagne."

 

He put his hands on her shoulders to push her back but she grabbed his wrists and pulled him closer holding them against her chest. She cradled them close but wouldn't let go. She needed him to listen.

 

"No,” she said. “I've had exactly the right amount of alcohol. I've wanted you for so long you have no idea. I just needed to get you drunk."

 

He snorted. "It'll take more then a jar of bubbly for me to get drunk."

 

She smiled brightly. "Even better. I have you for a week. _One week_ , Mr. Gold. Is the marriage even legal without consummation? I don't want to be caught out on a technicality. I intend on being thorough. Just give me my week, I promise I'll leave you alone when it's up."

 

"You— oh, god,” he moaned. “You're serious.”

 

Her only answer was to unzip her dress, shrugging out of it and her bra, exposing herself to him. “I want you,” she said in a low, gravely voice. “So much.”

 

He surged forward, leaving a trail of white-hot kisses down her throat to her breastbone while she cupped her breasts and held them up for him, relishing the way he nuzzled her before licking the skin exposed between her fingers.

 

Belle's eyes closed as he sucked at a nipple, rocking back and forth over him, moaning as he reached behind her to shove her closer to him.

 

“I don't know if I can wait,” he said against her skin.

 

She smiled down at him. “Then make love to me, Mr. Gold.”

 

He huffed out a breathless laugh. “Actually, I prefer Mr. French.” he said, sliding his hands over her thighs. He pulled at the skirt of her dress slowly, watching her as he dragged it up, fingers searching for the edge of her underwear. He slipped a finger underneath the elastic and found her folds, wet and swollen and ready for him. She let him pull them down before slipping them off entirely, straddling his lap once more.

 

“Oh, Belle,” was all that he was able to say before crushing her to him, raining kisses up and down her face.

 

She had him unzipped and exposed and in her hand, pumping him a few times before she sat up on her knees and sank down onto him with a groan. She closed her eyes as she filled herself up with him. She'd spent months of unfulfilled frustration and self-pleasure imagining this moment and she had to fight the urge to rock against him. She wanted to savor it.

 

He twitched inside her and that was enough to bring her back to the present. Belle opened her eyes to find him watching her every move and that spurred her on to move at last. She started to rock against him, grinding down on her clit with every forward roll.

 

"...so good. Oh god, this is–" She sped up, head thrown back, not even thinking of him anymore, just racing towards that horizon where she would find completion. It came quickly and with the force of a steam train. She screamed, gutturally, painfully from the onset of her orgasm. It swept through her, curling her toes until they cramped, her muscles seizing as she came, clamping down on him with every spasm.

 

He swore and held her as he started to thrust into her. "Jesus, Belle."

 

She kissed him, sloppily. There was no going back. He allowed her a week, but as it turned out, she went and screwed herself just as much as she'd screwed Mr. Gold. there was nothing for it now. She would have to enjoy it while she could.

 

"Belle, you're– fuck! You're amazing..."

 

He whimpered when she slid off him, but didn't protest when she dropped to her knees in front of him.

 

"What are you doing?" he croaked out.

 

"I want to taste myself on you."

 

"Oh, _fuck_."

 

 _Yes_ , she thought as she wrapped her lips around his cock, sucking the head into her mouth and laving at him with her tongue. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head thrown back, mouth slack. Belle yanked on his tie to get his attention. "Look at me, Adam. I want to see you," she murmured against him.

 

He opened his eyes with effort. They were wild and dark with lust. She watched him as she ran her tongue up every inch of his cock, licking herself off him. He nearly closed his eyes when she gently sucked his balls one by one but a soft twitch on his tie reminded him to keep his eyes on her. He was wrecked and beautiful and hers.

 

He was close to coming, his hips shunting and thighs quivering, feet scrambling for purchase as she loved him with her mouth. She gave him one last lick with the flat of her tongue and with a kiss to the tip of his cock, she sat down on the couch, leaning back with her arms open and legs spread ready to receive him. He was on top of her quickly, shunting inside her with a muffled groan as he took her mouth and poured his kisses into her.

 

"Belle, I—" he sounded at the of his wits if he had any left after she worked him up with her mouth. His voice was ragged and raw and it added a sharp thrill to the sensation of his cock thrusting inside her.

 

He was starting to lose his rhythm, his hips jerking wildly as he began to reach his climax. Belle was just beginning to lose herself again, feeling the stirrings of her own orgasm building within her with each thrust.

 

"Come with me," she begged, not knowing if she meant here now on the couch or forever, but the words kept coming as he thrust inside her desperately.

 

"Come with me, Adam. Please!" She was so close, it was swelling up inside her ready to send her over the edge once more. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, digging her heels into his buttocks pulling him closer, harder, faster.

 

She screamed as it overtook her, Adam crying out with her as he bucked against her with a hard push, his own orgasm ripping through him. He thrust one, two more times, holding himself up with shaking arms before collapsing on top of her with a faint cry. They were sweaty, their clothes were tangled and he shoes were still on. It was perfect.

 

She pushed his hair away from his face, beaded with sweat and flushed from exertion. She'd never seen him look more handsome.

 

“Come with me,” she asked, breathlessly.

 

He looked at her helplessly. “Yes.”

 

 

 

 


	2. The Honeymoon

**The Honeymoon**

Belle looked at the vehicle in front of them, helmet under her arm and bouncing on her heels in her excitement to be off. It was packed with only the essentials. Their needs were simple: a couple changes of clothes, toiletries, their electronics chargers, and their GPS. Anything else they needed could be bought along the way.

They’d taken short day trips up and down the coast until Belle felt confident enough to attempt their much anticipated cross country road trip. Adam had purchased the golden motorcycle and sidecar as a wedding gift, the idea of a honeymoon spent gallivanting across the country had piqued his interest and the vision of his beautiful wife, clad in leather, driving them across the lower forty-eight had sparked urges in him that he didn’t know he had. They would take the scenic route to California, stopping wherever and whenever they wanted. They had no schedules, no timelines, no deadlines and, when they pulled into Monterey, they would sell the motorcycle and take possession of the sailboat that awaited them, spending a few weeks learning the basics before setting out with their sailing instructor to Hawaii where the instructor would disembark and they would set sail, alone, to Australia.  

The entire journey would take a year to complete.

“Are you ready, Adam?” she asked, eying her husband who was strapping down his helmet with practiced ease. He was wearing jeans and a white button down shirt underneath an old, battered brown leather jacket that he’d dug out of his closet after a short search. Belle thought he looked dashing in his new outfit though she missed the suits. They had no need for suits for the next twelve months.

“I am,” he told her, lifting up the visor, eyes twinkling at her. “You’re a perfect driver and I feel absolutely safe.” He eyed her appreciatively, lingering on her legs for longer than would have been polite if they hadn’t been wrapped around him just an hour before. “And you look delicious in leather.”

She curtseyed, holding out a pretend skirt as she bowed her head at him, biting her lip to keep from giggling. “I still think you should have bought a pair for yourself,” she said, after she’d straightened up.

He scoffed. “I’d have looked ridiculous in leather pants,” he said looking down at his own jeans.

“What if we got you chaps?” she asked, curiously. “With fringe and buckles?”

“Then I’d look like a reject from The Village People.”

“I dunno,” she said, tilting her head to take him in. “I think they’d be nice on you.”

“No.”

She leaned into him, whispering in his ear. “What if you wore them without your pants?”

He looked at her aghast.“Definite not!”

“We could share them.”

He stared at her, momentarily stunned.

“Fine,” he said, quietly, a soft flush spreading along the bit of his cheeks that she could see.

She smiled beatifically. “I’m sure we can pick up a pair when we stop in Laconia.”

“Then we’d better get going now before they’re all sold out,” he said with over exaggerated sweetness. “And you’re wearing them first.”

“Of course,” she said, with every intention of not being the first to have them on.

She strapped on her helmet — adorned with a red rose airbrushed across the back — while her husband eased himself and his cane into the side car. They tested the microphones, making sure they were in working order — the ability to talk to each other was one of the reasons they’d purchased that particular set. They were able to listen to music as well and Belle also had a variety of audio books programmed in to keep them entertained, but for the very beginning of their adventure Belle chose something else.

Adam rolled his eyes at her as the opening guitar riff of Steppenwolf blared through his speakers. “Cliché,” he told her through their mics, but Belle could tell he was smiling behind the complaint.

“I don’t care,” she said, before snapping her visor down and, with a powerful kick and a twist of her wrist, the engine started with a roar. “You can’t start an epic adventure without it.”

Belle looked down at him and, even though his face was hiding behind the visor, she thought he looked handsome. “I can’t wait for my dad to meet you,” she said before pulling out into the street and headed out of Storybrooke.


End file.
